


Tumblr Tied on the End of a String

by Esmethewitch



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Accidental Parenthood, Characters React to Fandom, Characters Reading Fanfiction, Crack, Domestic Fluff, Dopheld Mitaka Knows Everything, Eventual Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren, Eventual Bashing of Donald Trump, Gratuitous Political Commentary, Humor, Hux is a Prude, Multi, Mushy Feelings, Social Commentary, Tongue-in-cheek, Tumblr, Tumblr Purge 2018, Will tag more characters as they appear, a small amount of actual smut, descriptions of smut, slight plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2019-09-25 07:20:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17116925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esmethewitch/pseuds/Esmethewitch
Summary: General Hux tries to search for “kyber” on the holonet but it is mistyped as “kylux”. He is scarred for life and determined to destroy the strange planet of Tumblr that has produced such atrocities. He finds an unlikely ally in Rey, who isn’t too happy to find out about Reylo either. (She only just moved in with Rose.) Rose is reluctant to promote censorship despite her concerns for her girlfriend, but when Hux introduces her to “Roux/GingerRose” she is out for blood.But others concerned about the fate of their own blogs and entertainment convince them to leave the site mostly intact but ban “adult content”. The journey to another galaxy far away to announce their demands and enforce them is a struggle, but after all Hux has planet-destroying weaponry and Rey has a lightsaber and Force-choking powers. Rose has attitude and a taser. The odd, backward planet of “Earth” shall bow to the combined might of the First Order and the Resistance.Gratuitous social and political commentary, inspired by the Great Tumblr Purge of 2018.Because “female-presenting nipples” sounds exactly like something Hux would say with a sneer.





	1. Kylux

**Author's Note:**

> Updates for this work are probably going to be erratic as I have a longer WIP that I am focusing on, not to mention real life.

General Hux needed more kyber. His engineers were designing a new and improved version of Starkiller. It wasn’t going to be a big, sluggish sphere stuck in space like a planet for the Resistance to dive-bomb and blow up. No, slowly but surely, they were working on methods to equip dreadnoughts with the same technology. Easier to defend, more maneuverable, and most importantly, no inconveniently placed exhaust ports. Unlike the creator of the first Death Star, their chief engineer was working on this project of her own free will and would retire a rich woman on an isolated tropical beach planet with no holonet access when it was all done.

But they were banking on building cores out of kyber that they didn’t have. Hux sat in his quarters, hands perched on the keyboard of his console. Despite his reputation as an engineer, Hux knew almost nothing of the mysterious crystals that could power lightsabers and planet-destroying beams. He could calculate required durasteel thicknesses for blast doors to four decimal points in his head, but despite what his early training would have one think he was no expert on superweapons. His strengths lay in structural engineering instead. So he turned, as everyone does when they are faced with an assignment beyond them, to the holonet. He logged on to his preferred search engine and typed: “ky…”. Millicent leapt onto his desk and walked over the keyboard.

“MILLIE!” Hux wailed. “Daddy’s working!” The cat’s last step hit the “enter” key. She curled up on a stack of overflowing file folders and fell asleep with a self-satisfied look on her furry face.

With a sigh, he looked at the screen. And screamed. It was filled with images of himself and Supreme Leader (he doesn’t deserve the title) Kylo Ren, mostly nude and locked in a passionate embrace. Hux was previously baffled by Kylo’s desire to ruin perfectly good consoles with his fists and lightsaber, but now he wanted to do the same. He went over to his bed and screamed some more, muffled by his pillow. Millicent washed her paws disdainfully. When his screaming was done, he pulled out the bottle of Arkanian whiskey he kept in the bottom drawer of his desk and poured himself a stiff double. That took the edge off of the soul-crushing horror and repulsion he felt upon seeing this disgusting themed porn. He could think logically now.

Of course, Ren went around the _Finalizer_ for a solid two weeks shirtless and oiled in case Rey called. That was before he saw her kissing Rose Tico over the Force Bond. He had destroyed two floors of expensive equipment in a rage. Oddly, it was Dopheld Mitaka who stopped it.

“People can’t just magically change their sexuality, Supreme Leader. It’s not that she hates you, it’s just that she is attracted exclusively to women and you are a man.”

This piece of wisdom calmed him down for a couple of weeks. Until he asked Rey: “If you were straight or bi or if I were a girl, would you have said yes?”

Rey laughed. “No. I’m attracted to emotional maturity.”  
Kylo’s temper soured, but at least he kept a shirt on after that.

Hux scrolled through the pages of what he learned that the common people called “fanart”. So some pervert on the _Finalizer_ decided to immortalize Ren’s shirtless form and for some reason pair it with his? Hux couldn’t fathom how or why they made this choice. Unlike Ren, Hux considered himself underdressed if he left off his gloves or hat. In any case, the drawings of his nude torso didn’t resemble it in reality. Then he got to the pieces tagged “bondage” and “BDSM”. His nostrils flared with rage as he saw representations of himself tied up and spanked. But the pictures where it was the other way round had a certain appeal. Hux would very much like to have Kylo Ren helpless, bound hand and foot with a gag shoved in his mouth. So he could place him in an airlock and hit the “eject” button.

With a morbid sense of curiosity, he hit another link called “Reylo”. It was much the same as “Kylux”, only with the Scavenger in his place. _Why do so many people want her to be straight?_ He measured out a couple spoonfuls of Tarine tea and let Millie chase his laser pointer while the water boiled. She helped him discover this treachery, so she deserved a reward. It was going to be a long night of research. Steaming mug of tea in hand, dressed in a bathrobe, he settled down and delved into every “ship”(that is what these scandalous and improbable pairings were called) he could find. “Gingerpilot” was initially laughable--he could hardly see himself with Poe Dameron for more than ten minutes without screaming at him.

But the good Gingerpilot drawings were, if he was being completely honest with himself, kind of hot. Dameron may have little brain and his head in his cockpit, but his hair was to die for. He found himself fantasizing about running his fingers through his perfect curls, pressing Poe’s shorter but well-muscled body against his own... _You hate him and anyway FN-2187 has him tied down. Their wedding was last month. Not that you care._ In fact, there was plenty of art labeled “Stormpilot”. It seemed like these anonymous artists’ imaginations were boundless. He found Rey with FN-2187, Rey with Poe, an improbable threesome called “Reylux”, Rey with Rose (they got that right, give a roomful of Kowakian Monkey-Lizards datapads and someday one of them will write classic Nabooian literature), and Rose with FN-2187.

When he found “Gingerrose/Roux”, he spit out his tea. _No, No, NO!!!._ It wasn’t that he found Rose unattractive and she was in a committed relationship already, it was mostly that with the way things were, anything they did would be pretty creepy. He was slightly scared of her, and she of him. These horrible, damned artists picked up on that. There were works titled things like: “On your knees, Rebel Scum!” or “Biting the Rabid Cur”. His finger ached when he saw that one. In a way, these made him feel worse than the BDSM Kylux pictures had. Rose and Hux tried to forget the Biting Incident ever occurred. So did everyone else in their respective places of employment. _How did these people on the holonet know? Why do they fetishize it?_

Most of these drawings came from a place called “Tumblr”. At the officers meeting tomorrow he would announce that all personal art supplies were now forbidden and the planet of Tumblr was to be destroyed. He’d never heard of it before, but a little preliminary research would locate the system. They didn’t have Starkiller anymore, but they could still slowly shell it to death like they did with Hays Minor. It would be a perfect site for target practice with the new Death-Dreadnoughts. When, budget permitting, they finally got finished.


	2. Reylo

Rey sat on the couch with a cup of herbal tea. Her datapad pinged, so she checked her holo-mail. The latest message was from General Hux.

“Rose!” she yelled. “I want you to see this! I don’t know what to do.”

“Just a minute!” Rose called from the kitchen. “The muffins are almost done.” The oven door clanged and Rose removed the pan of warm, fragrant Toim-berry muffins and set it on a rack to cool. She turned off the oven, rinsed out the mixing bowl, and joined her girlfriend in the living room. “What is it, Rey?”

“According to my messaging system, I just got a holo-mail from General Hux. The way these things go, it’s probably malware.”

Rose squinted at the inbox, then pulled out her own datapad and typed a few search terms. “His official holo-mail address is GenHux@firstorder.gov. Let’s see if the traceback on yours matches that.”

A few minutes of tapping later, Rose nodded. “It seems like it’s an actual message from Hux’s holo-mail, at least. Of course, there is still the possibility that his account got hacked or he decided to send you a virus for some reason. If I were you, I would holo-mail him and ask him to verify that he did indeed send you a message and his account was secure.”

“Sounds like a good plan. Thanks, Rose. Sorry I’m such a bumpkin. I’m not used to having actual holonet access. The only hotspot on Jakku was the local cantina.”

Rose smiled. “You’re not the first person to fall for a holo-net scam, Rey. You’ve obviously learned from it. If this holo-mail was from scammers, they didn’t fool you this time.”

“I really wanted a chance to bid on Darth Maul’s old saber-staff.”

“I know.”

Rey composed this holo-mail and sent it to GenHux@firstorder.gov:

“Dear Evil, Genocidal General Hux,

Did you just send me, Rey, a holo-mail with the subject line: ‘ I need your help wiping smut and filth from the Galaxy, look at these disgusting linked pictures and tell me I’m not wrong’ ?

First of all, that is an incredibly long subject line. I was taught that a holo-mail subject line ought to be something short and to the point, like ‘Sparring Practice at 2:00?’ or ‘Re: Why I don’t take Padawans’. Second of all, such a subject line makes me think that your holo-mail was sent to the wrong recipient. I am loathe to join forces with someone who, although not a Force-user is so immersed in the Dark Side. Thirdly, the addition of ‘linked pictures’ makes me think that malware and viruses may be attached to this missive. If you sent those to me with ill intent, it didn’t work. If this message was sent without your knowledge, I should check my account security if I were you. In any case, please do not contact me again.

Thank you and have a good weekend,

Rey of Jakku.”

“That should do it,” Rey said. Not five minutes later her datapad pinged again. It was a reply to her message to Hux:

“Scavenger,

I did send you that message and the links contain no malware or viruses to my knowledge. It has come to my attention that persons unknown on the Holonet have somehow gained access to images of ourselves and many of our mutual acquaintances, colleagues, enemies, and friends, and based tasteless erotic art off of these images. Most of the transmissions appear to come from a planet or organization called Tumblr. For some reason, these faceless scribblers seem to think you or I would do well to star in ‘artsy’ pornography featuring the so-called Supreme Leader Kylo Ren. I have attached several images containing examples of ‘Kylux’ , ‘Reylux’, ‘Reyux’, and ‘Reylo’ for your analysis.

I assume that you are just as disturbed by this development as I am, and desire to eliminate this new threat to our dignities from the Galaxy. Should you have any questions or ideas please holo-mail me.

You stand for a rabble that acquiesces to disorder, but I would like think that we could collaborate professionally should the situation require it.

Have an acceptable weekend, (My weekends, like always, are just days I do more work and clean up after the disaster I am forced to call Supreme Leader. They are never ‘good’. If I am lucky, I have a couple of hours to devote to my cat. Thank you for the sentiment though, nobody has ever wished that upon me before.)

General Armitage Hux of the First Order.”

“Well, that explains it,” said Rey after reading the message aloud. Rose, for her part had paused with her muffin halfway to her mouth. Rey’s tea had grown cold.

“Are you going to look at the pictures?”

“Don’t see why not. Hux is so prudish they’re probably just pictures of officers on the bridge without hats or gloves.”

Rey opened the first holo-mail, and tapped on the first link marked “Reylo--bondage”. That was a mistake. She let out a muffled cry. There was a rather masterfully rendered image of Rey strapped into the interrogation restraints while Kylo loomed over her. The key difference between the picture and reality was that in this case, she was not wearing a stitch of clothing. The artist made one of the worst moments of her life _sexy._ Kylo’s words rang in her head: _“I can take whatever I want…”_ She was starting to shake. Rose squeezed her hand and looked at it. “Eeurgh,” she said. “Well, at least it doesn’t really look like you.”

And Rose was right. The girl there had a face that resembled Rey’s, but her skin was perfect. Rey’s skin was pockmarked from the ravages of the adolescent acne she endured without regular access to water. In the drawing, the girl had smooth, flawless legs. Rey’s were covered in scars from sharp scrap metal and a fine layer of hair. On Jakku, she was lucky if she could sponge herself down from a bucket once a week. The concept of shaving legs was foreign to her, and it seemed like a waste of water and time. She was slightly ashamed of her laziness when she saw that all the other women in the Resistance did it. But her attempts just resulted in a few cuts and “racing stripes” so she soon gave it up.

To Rose, those “flaws” made Rey more beautiful. When she heard about the Last Jedi, she pictured a terrible goddess of destruction, dealing out retribution and justice surrounded by the blue glow of the lightsaber. If she ever did choose a lover, it wouldn’t be a nobody like Rose. But when she met Rey, she found someone who took time out of her day to rewire door mechanisms with her and pick apart old calcinators. Who didn’t whine about the grease getting under her fingernails. When her leggings rode up to reveal her hairy calves, she didn’t care. She was lovely, human and real. Yet she glowed with a light that touched all around her and moved with the grace of a dancer.

When Rey was first assigned quarters at the Resistance, Rose brought her a little basket of muffins she made in one of the common room kitchens. She used the special recipe with dried Toim-berries that Paige and her mother spent years refining. Rose loved to bake, and she wanted Rey to feel welcome. She was not prepared for Rey to spasm with almost orgasmic pleasure after one bite. “These are so _good,_ Rose! Thank you so much! It’s amazing that you cook! Is it possible to learn this power?”

In retrospect, Kylo Ren shouldn’t have offered Rey the Galaxy. He should’ve bargained with a plate of quality baked goods instead. That basket of muffins instigated some cooking lessons (that dramatically increased in regularity and length as they got to know each other better), and later their relationship.  
It was working because they tried to make each other stronger. Rey didn’t let Rose wallow in survivor’s guilt and grief over her sister, or allow her to be ruled by her inferiority complex. She praised her mechanical engineering skills when they worked together, pointing out key details that Rose caught. On the mornings she got up early to train, she left Rose a short love note with a cup of freshly made caf.

Rose accompanied her to the mess hall three times a day and bullied her into taking her vitamins. Back on Jakku, Rey was accustomed to only eating once a day, twice a day if she was lucky. Dr. Kalonia had diagnosed Rey as deficient in pretty much every imaginable nutrient and lectured her for hours on proper nutrition and eating habits, but until she took up with Rose it wasn’t really sinking in. She delighted in Rey’s swelling breasts and hardening muscles. Rey was now shredded.  
As they clicked through the imaginary Reys created by the holonet artists, they noticed that they were all thin and fragile, like porcelain dolls. Rey was like that when Rose first met her, but as her regular meals and increased staff training started to pay off, she filled out.

“What do you think, Rose? Are you jealous? If everyone was drawing erotica based on you and posting it on the holonet, I’d be angry.”  
Rose sighed. “I don’t like the interrogation-themed porn. I understand that people have their kinks, but that’s your _life_ , not garden variety BDSM with safewords and where all the scenes and dangers are pretend. I imagine it makes you uncomfortable.”

Rey nodded. “Yeah. I mean, it would all be different if it was of a fictional character, not _me._ But realistically, even if I were straight or bi in some alternate universe and I took up with Kylo and we were both kinky as hell…” She trailed off.

“What?” Rose asked. “Now you’ve got me curious.”

“Well, in that alternate world that will never be, I’d probably be the domme. I didn’t tell anybody this, but when we dueled for the first time in that forest, he actually seemed super turned on. He liked it when I hurt him. When he had me in the binders before he killed Snoke, I could read his thoughts through the Force Bond. He was nervous. He didn’t like it and he thought he’d get punished for his insolence later. Part of him _wanted_ me to punish him. I almost killed him. I don’t think that’s exactly what he had in mind, but that made sense at the time.”

“That’s really kriffed up,” said Rose softly.

“I know. There’s kinky, and then there’s...whatever he has going on in his head.” Rey shuddered. “But what do you think of all the stuff we found that has me with Finn or Poe?”

“Jealousy is pointless there. I helped Finn figure out he was gay. People kiss friends and family on Jakku.” She laughed at Rey’s spreading blush. “Yes, I looked it up. Anyway,” she continued, “I’m not mad that people we don’t know draw pictures of you hooking up with other people. Because they never get you exactly right. They don’t know _my_ Rey.”

“I like that idea,” whispered Rey. “They’ve never seen the actual thing.” She kissed Rose, then pulled away and untied the knots of her sleeve-wraps. She yanked at the wrist and tugged away one sleeve in a whirling spiral of fabric, baring a tanned, heavily muscled arm. Then the other one went, and she peeled off her tunic, unhooked her bra. She embraced Rose and freed her hair from its ponytail, letting it frame her face in a dark curtain, her hands drifting to the nape of Rose’s neck and rubbing little circles.

“So we’re having sex now? I’m not complaining, it’s just that this is a bit sudden...”

“Someone once told me: ‘Create the art you wish to see.’ If you want good smut, you have to make it yourself. In real life. Do you want to do that?”

“Kriff, yes.”

They ended up tangled together on their bed, too tired and sated to worry about anonymous artists drawing porn anymore. Rey basked in the delicious post-orgasm haze, all of her senses heightened. She could feel everything-- the weight of the blanket they’d wrapped around each other, a pleasant soreness in the places Rose explored and claimed, the texture of the sheets, the warm, living softness of Rose’s body nestled with hers. At times like this, she’d reach out lightly with the Force. Rose radiated contentment, and those secondhand sensations combined with her own put her to sleep.


	3. Stormpilot

Poe scrolled through the pages on his datapad. He had meant to tidy up his closet, fix the door that stuck, and get most of his squadron datawork in order, planning to enjoy a lazy weekend after a productive Friday. That plan was no more than an idle fantasy now. The holonet sucked him into procrastination like a giant worm swallowing a spaceship with broken thrusters. His conversation with Rey and Rose at lunch today had opened a whole new world. Poor Rey. That holo-mail from Hux was hilarious though. How did these people know so many details about their lives? _And half the time they get them all wrong._ “What are you looking at on your datapad, Friend-Poe?”, BB-8 beeped.

“Just...stuff, buddy. You wouldn’t like it.”

The door opened, and Finn walked in. BB-8 rolled over to him, chirping excitedly.

“How was your day, Finn?”

“Work was fine. Training went well.” There was a bit of a catch in his voice.

“What happened?” Poe asked. He knew by now that if Finn said something was “fine”, it wasn’t. He put his datapad away and focused on his husband.

“There was an intelligence briefing with General Organa and everyone this afternoon while you were out. The First Order has increased their troop transport activity, shipping stormtroopers out from planetside bases to muster on the dreadnoughts.”

“And?”

“According to the sources, most of the troops transported are sub-adults. It looks like they’re getting so desperate, they’re preparing to fight with _children_. We have no way of intercepting the transports at this time.”

“Kriff.”

“Kriff,” Finn agreed. “The one good thing about this is that some of them may not be adequately…prepared for combat yet. They might desert.”

They both sighed.

“What were you looking at on your datapad?”, Finn asked, changing the subject.

“A bunch of nonsense. Rey told me about this site called Tumblr. Apparently, people all across the Galaxy tell stories about us and then draw smutty art. She heard about it from Hux, who found that somebody had drawn pictures of him banging Kylo or Rey, occasionally me. There were way more of Rey and Kylo for some reason. He freaked out and holo-mailed Rey.”

Finn laughed. “Hux breaks out in a cold sweat if he sees one of his officers without a hat or gloves. Is any of it good?”

“Sometimes. Here, take a look at this!” Poe pulled up one of his favorite pieces of this “fanart”. It depicted himself in a frilly red dress swooning into Finn’s arms. Finn had a coil of rope attached to his belt and was wearing a leather jacket with a fringe and a strange wide-brimmed hat. They stood beside an odd-looking animal with a long tail seemingly made of hair. A lurid sunset shone behind them.

“The dress suits you.”

“Doesn’t it just? I think that hat on you was a mistake though.”

Finn chuckled. “That is an epic hat. That riding animal thing is so weird.”

“Yeah. No idea what that’s supposed to be.”

“Is it all like that?”

“Oh no. Most of it is basically porn.”

“Quality porn?”

“Not usually. Some of it looks like it was drawn or written by a virgin.”

“You were a virgin until fairly recently. But you learn fast.”

Poe winked. “I’m a pilot. Of course I’m a quick study when it comes to riding things.” He put an arm over his husband’s shoulders. “There’s more. I found links to this site called Archive of Our Own. People make up stories about us and post them there.”

“Do they tell stories about our adventures together?”

“Yes. Mostly just the sexual kind of adventures though. The type we either don’t want to have or don’t have time to have.”

“At this point I’m not surprised.”

“I want to do a dramatic reading of the best of it. Here’s a fun one.” Poe clicked on a link he saved and navigated to the first smutty chapter. He cleared his throat.

“‘Oh Poe, this feels so good!’ the former stormtrooper moaned, lost in the warm eyes of Poe Dameron, best pilot in the Resistance.’ “

“Lost in the warm eyes? What is that even supposed to mean? It sounds like drowning in an overheated bathtub.”

“Do you want me to keep reading or not?”

“Fine. Keep going. Unless there are like ten more chapters of this dreck.”

“It’s chapter 2 of 2. We’re safe. Alright.

‘I’ve never done this before,’ Finn confessed. ‘Please be gentle. I trust myself with you. You are the first man I have ever loved.’ Poe kissed him and slurped his lips up into his mouth like limp noodles, their tongues gently intertwining, dueling for dominance. ‘I will never hurt you, Finn.’ “

The real Finn clutched the table for support as he doubled over in laughter, tears streaming from his eyes. “Stop. STOP. I can’t take any more of that. I don’t want to find out how this writer describes anal. Lips like limp noodles…oh dear. And you’re my first…” He shook his head.

“I know, right? That pattern’s common to most of these fics. I’m nearly always experienced and you’re a virgin.”

“Is that supposed to be because I was a stormtrooper?”

“Yeah, that’s how most people write it.”

Finn sighed. “We were told sex was a normal part of life, that if done with consent it could be used to maintain a healthy hormonal balance. It was discussed as if it existed on the same level as showers or dental hygiene. If you tied it up with relationships or liked it too much, there would be trouble.”

“Trust the First Order to take the fun out of everything.”

“I know. But maybe there’s some truth to the virgin version of me and the experienced version of you. I’ve had plenty of sex but you’re my first real romantic relationship. You’ve had lots of friendships and a few romantic relationships, but you told me they’ve never progressed to the point of sex before. We’re learning how to do this together.”

Poe cocked his head. “I can see that. I think we are.”

They shared a happy silence for a minute or so.

“I’m just amused that Hux hates this so much,” Finn said.

“Well, he gets put in the same bed as someone who Force-chokes him on a regular basis. That has to sting.”

“You know,” said Finn, “this has given me an idea. We can use Hux’s hatred of fanart to our advantage. We’d have to get Rose and Rey in on it, but I think they’d enjoy it. They would be amazing at leading Hux around obscure regions of the Galaxy on a wild-nerf chase to eliminate the artists. In the meantime, we can attack the First Order bases, and they’ll be much weaker with only Kylo Ren in charge. Everyone who knows anything about command and strategy will be hiding in a closet.”

Poe grinned. “That’s a crazy plan. But I think it could work. Let’s bring it up with General Organa and the rest tomorrow.”

“Alright. I’m going to holo-mail Rose and Rey about it. Are there any more interesting trends in those stories people make up about us?”

“I get pregnant sometimes.”

“What?”

“There’s a term for it. Mpreg, I think.”

“But where does the baby come from?! I mean, if you were female-to-male trans and still had a uterus, that would make sense. Otherwise, that’s physically impossible.”

Poe shuddered. “I don’t want to think about how the baby grows or gets out of there. I want a bunch of kids someday, but we can adopt. Mpreg and the tagline ‘Poe Dameron hurts so prettily’ are probably my least favorite things people put in writing.”

“What’s ‘Poe Dameron hurts so prettily’?”

“Something people say to justify making me suffer in a fic, I think. It’s weird that they’re so fixated on it. I guess that’s related to the ‘Reylo Bondage’ Rey told me about. People are kinky and don’t think enough about what it was really like.”

Finn looked at Poe and understood. Poe’s theory about under-analyzed kinks was partially accurate, but there was more to it than that. Poe Dameron hurt so prettily as a prisoner on the _Finalizer,_ battered and scared but still capable of seeing beauty in the Galaxy, clinging to hope. On that day he had to resist the urge to steal a medkit and tend to his wounds, kissing them better after the bandages were put on. It was never about Finn needing a pilot. There was a TIE pilot planning to leave; Finn could have just talked his way into going with her. But he was drawn to Poe’s pretty suffering on that day. He was glad they stayed together so he could watch him heal. _If this is him when he’s hurt, he is going to be gorgeous when he is happy,_ he thought. Finn was right. He hugged Poe.  
“What those people don’t get is that you do everything prettily,” he said. “And that there is a difference between merely pretty and truly beautiful. You do hurt prettily, but when you’re safe and happy you are beautiful. That is so much better.”


	4. Hitaka, or That's No Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OK, so there is some US political commentary and Trump-bashing here, as promised. I see it as my solemn patriotic duty as an American to exercise my freedom of speech and compare our current President to the love-child of Jar Jar Binks and Palpatine, without the latter's political acumen. If that's not your thing, don't read this chapter.

“So, Lieutenant, you’re telling me that Tumblr is not a planet in this galaxy?”

Mitaka clenched his hands into fists and took a deep breath. This job was too stressful. When they were kids, he and Hux had planned to run away from Academy and make a living as pirates. They did try to run away once. It didn’t go well. At least they were found by a kindly Sergeant who snuck them back into the dorm and said that he saw nothing, that hijinks like that were a rite of passage, not grounds for desertion charges. He ignored their blasters and full packs.

Mitaka wondered on some sleepless nights what might have happened if somebody crueler, or more opportunistic had found them. He had recently begun psychotherapy, but he saw it as a futile pursuit. Breathing exercises would be of no use if his boss was force-choking him. “That is correct, Arm--sir. It’s not a planet. It’s not even a moon. As far as we know, it’s a holonet site particular to no region, but uncommonly used in First Order or Republic-controlled space. It is steadily gaining popularity, though. It can be used as a channel to discuss concerns…not readily addressed elsewhere, sir. I myself enjoy…”

Hux cut him off. “But where does this loathsome _fanart_ fit? How have I been unaware of its existence for so long? It may be but a holonet site, but surely its developers are based on a planet somewhere. How may we contact them and order them to destroy their holo-site or have their planet destroyed?”

Mitaka winced. “With all due respect, sir, Tumblr provides much more than pornography. For instance, I follow several blogs focused on houseplant care, baking, and anxiety disorder management. Others rely on this site for advice on issues such as transitioning.”

“Transitioning? Like switching to a new job?”

Lieutenant Mitaka sighed, remembering how he had to explain the “rancors and the rathars” to his incongruously innocent friend (now supervisor, how did that happen?) in Academy, aged thirteen. “No, Armi—sir, it’s not that kind of transitioning. It’s for people like Captain Trosper.”

Hux’s brow wrinkled in puzzlement. “Oh? _That?_ All I recall is that she filled out the forms, got her new uniforms straightened out, and picked up prescription hormones from Medbay. It really wasn’t a bother, and she’s much more efficient now. You stopped your incessant worrying, too.”

“She’s _happier_ now, sir. But her family didn’t take the news well, and that was difficult. Of course, I can never completely understand what she’s gone through, all I could do was listen. But the blogs she found on Tumblr helped. They were written by other people like her who’ve had similar things happen. It made us realize how good we have it, here. There’s one empire out there where the Emperor is trying to ban people who transitioned from serving in the military. It’s called America. They’re uncannily similar to us. The Emperor and…Grand Moff Pence, I think, recently got into some trouble for taking a bunch of kids away from their parents.”

“They’re soft over there,” Hux sneered. “We do that all the time. Compulsory military school made me what I am today.”

“You don’t understand, sir. They don’t give the children blaster training, education, re-education, and guaranteed employment. They just put them in cages, to psychologically traumatize them.”

“Is there any clear goal behind this?”

“None that I can find, sir.”

Hux’s lip curled. “The scum. We blow up planets, but pointless traumatization of children without well thought out training objectives is a whole new level of evil. What is this Emperor like? Is he anything as childish as Ren?”

“He’s immature, but he’s old, sir. This Emperor is honestly uglier than Palpatine, without any of his intelligence or the excuse of being struck by Force-Lightning. I do wonder, though. He looks like the ba—love-child of Jar Jar Binks and Palpatine.” Mitaka pulled up a political blog and clicked on a link to some website from another system. Strangely, the article was in Basic. On the top of the page was an image of an old, orange, humanoid man whose yellow hair resembled a giant, sentient caterpillar. The hair was the most disturbing part, in Mitaka’s opinion.

“That’s outrageous!” Hux looked scandalized. “Emperor Trumpatine is just giving some people a method to draft-dodge, and he could lose too many talented officers that way! I’m glad those poor people have their holonet advice blogs. They’re going to need them. I thought that site was only good for peddling porn!”

“The orange being is called President Trump, sir. The American Empire is a democracy in name, at least. Oddly, most of the people in that Empire look human, and have a normal range of skin tones. Maybe being so orange is a sign of wealth; beta-carotene rich foods could be expensive there, and the members of the elite with pale complexions might gorge themselves on orange foods to display their power. You weren’t totally wrong about the smut. There is a fair bit of porn on Tumblr as well. Honestly, though, the biggest problem with this site is the bots.”

“The bots?” This was a whole new world for Hux. “Do droids interfere with the programming?”

“Nothing like that, sir. It’s that there are fake sites that look like porn sites, running on somebody’s sketchy coding. They follow legitimate blogs and sometimes spam ask blogs with things like: ‘Lo0king 4 fUk in ur area? Call tAryn, 18 yrs old, looking 4 fUCk, virginal-type.’ Then, there’s a spot to enter your credits account information. I really don’t think they fool anybody, and I’m tired of seeing them when I just want to see the new jade plant growth update or read my muffin recipes.”

“What does ‘Fuck’ mean, Lieutenant?”

_I told him where babies come from, I can do this,_ Mitaka repeated to himself. “It means the same thing as ‘kriff’, sir.”

“I had no idea there were different words for that. What system are most users from?”

“It’s out of the Galaxy, sir. Not even the unknown regions. There are nine planets. Only one is inhabited, I think.”

“Excellent. We can blow up the other eight planets in a show of force if the administrators of this site refuse to take the porn down. And if the American Empire is so poorly ruled, it should be but a simple matter to conquer them.”

Mitaka smiled weakly and looked up from his console. “Sir, the American Empire is only one part of one planet! If we show up and try to invade, we’ll probably have resistance from…Russia, or China. Canada would probably give us the most trouble.”

“Canada?”

“It’s an empire north of America. I imagine they have quite the stash of weapons if they are so close to a volatile power, and from my research I’ve been unable to find any information of substance on them.”

Hux smiled grimly. “I’m glad you did so much research, Lieutenant. I do have a lingering question, though. How do they know about us? Myself, Ren, the Scavenger…news of our politics and battles can’t travel so far across the universe, can it?”

“I suspect the Force is involved,” said Mitaka. “The American Empire’s artists have produced a series of holodramas purporting to tell our stories. But they always preface them with the words: ‘A long time ago, in a Galaxy far away…’. They know we’re distant from them, and with the sheer size of space, by the time one of us reaches their system, years might have gone by. Maybe the Force gives the artists in this region ideas, and they think people from this Galaxy are their gods, of sorts? Anyway, I’m impressed that the holodrama casting agents found people who resembled us so closely. Look at this, sir! He could be your doppelganger!”

Hux squinted at the image. It was uncannily similar. This man looked happier and healthier than himself and sported a beard. “What kind of kriffing name is _Domhnall Gleeson?”_

“Sir, your name is Armitage Hux and mine is Dopheld Mitaka. Chief Petty Officer Unamo only has one name. Captain Peavey’s first name is _Edrison._ I don’t think we can afford to be critical.”

“Perhaps you’re right.” Hux leaned over Mitaka’s console and clicked on a holosite called “Wikipedia”. After a minute of scrolling, he let out a shriek.

“What?”

“This man’s father is named _Brendan.”_

“So?”

“He’s still alive! He has his own Wikipedia page!” Hux did more frantic clicking.

After a minute, this phrase computed. Brendan. Brendol. Oh dear. Mitaka remembered Hux Senior. Thank the stars for Phasma and her weird death-beetle. Once, he’d suggested that Hux try therapy. It didn’t go well.

“I do NOT have ‘daddy issues’”, Hux retorted. “My father called therapists expensive friends, and said that people who see them are weak.” Dopheld bit back the urge to say that this response was more evidence that he did have daddy issues and needed therapy. He didn’t bring up the issue again.

“And he’s still married to this…Domhnall’s mother! If I have to cross the universe to kill that slimy, manipulative weasel again, I will!”

_Technically you didn’t kill him the first time,_ Mitaka thought but did not say. _It was all Phasma and her little friend. Phasma, the lovely goddess of war who will let me cry on her shoulder tonight after all this is done. We’ll get out a box of wine, she’ll show me the real zingers from her Tumblr advice blog ask box, and we’ll laugh at them. Then we’ll watch a holodrama. If we’re still awake by then, she might bench-press me. I like that._

Breathe. Think about Phasma and her firm pectorals hiding underneath her breasts, her rock-hard abdominals, her beautiful killer’s smile. “Sir, I sometimes wonder if this is an alternative universe. Brendan seems to be on reasonably good terms with Domhnall and his three brothers. Both father and son are holodrama actors, not military officers. The Brendan on this planet is not the Brendol you knew. And I have heard that it is not good to meet your alternate self.”

“Who says that?”

“It’s a common feature of speculative holodramas and holonovels, sir. The protagonist meets their alternate self, then all the timelines get kriffed up. And it sounds like he’s doing okay. At least the holodrama writers have agreed that you’re still alive.”

“Wait, they think you’re dead?”

Mitaka sighed. “Sebastian Armesto, the actor they picked to play me, didn’t return for the second movie. The holonet thinks Supreme Leader Ren either choked me to death for real, or I was stuck on Starkiller while it exploded.”

“Oof. I’m glad you’re alive, Doph.”

“Thanks. So am I. They think Phasma’s dead too, and the Traitor FN-2187 killed her.”

Hux raised an eyebrow. “He didn’t, though. He severely wounded her. She was in a coma in Medbay for two months, but she’s out now, as you know.”

“I guess it was narratively satisfying or something. Seeing as in the holodramas, she was always mean to him and he was frightened of her.”

“She scares everybody, and her default state is simmering rage. I don’t think FN-2187 ever took it personally.”

“I’m not afraid of her,” Mitaka replied smugly. He was looking forward to getting off shift.

“Ah, yes, I’ve forgotten that you have slept with Death herself and lived to do it again.”

“Don’t talk about my girlfriend like that!”  
“She told Kylo Ren that I need someone to take the stick out of my ass and get me laid when I could hear and gave me a thumbs-up before leaving the room. I think I can say what I want about her.”

Mitaka rolled his eyes, shut down his workstation, and left the bridge. His shift was over, and it was holodrama night. His muscular beauty awaited him.

Hux watched his Lieutenant leave. He was grateful that he had someone so capable to brief him on these matters. And happy that Mitaka found some comfort in Captain Phasma, terrifying though she was. He’d searched the “Hitaka” tag in that same morbid curiosity-filled Tumblr binge, and didn’t like what he saw. At best, Mitaka had an unnaturally large head, hearts for eyes, and said nonsensical things like: “Notice me, sempai!”, whatever that meant. At worst, on this hellish site (linked from Tumblr) called “Archive of Our Own”, well… some of those tags made the worst Kylux look like the goings-on of an Academy First Years dance (all those affairs served to do was to cultivate a fierce hatred of the Academy in the cadets’ hearts. After the training, the hazing, the five-mile runs, mathematics exams, and forced marches, they were locked in the cafeteria with a disco ball, an abysmal selection of music, no nourishment but for the chemical-tasting, non-alcoholic fruit punch, and told to dance and be nice to each other, leave room for Darth Vader.).

Mitaka didn’t need to know about the worst Hitaka fics. But given his extensive knowledge of the extragalactic holonet, maybe he already did. He hoped Mitaka had forgotten the one time they kissed in the refresher, at an Academy Dance. Just for the thrill of ducking away from the chaperones, standing in front of the graffiti-covered stalls, sipping back and forth from a canteen of disgusting fruit punch, cut with cheap whiskey. It was the terrible, fumbling, slobbering experimentation of a pair of tipsy fourteen-year-old boys with nothing more to go on than a vague idea that it was supposed to be good. Kriff. Thank the Force that they never spoke of it again, and that Mitaka turned out to be a straight man with a penchant for tall women.


	5. Interlude: Kylux Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: some intentionally terrible m/m slash here. Rest assured that none of this happens to any of the characters in the real AU of this fic.  
> None of the fake usernames here are meant to represent real Ao3 users.

_“Oh, fuck me, Kylo”, Hux, said, as he dropped his tight black pants, even his underwear that had little pink deathstars on them, and bent over his desk. His butthole fluttered open like a flower, blooming before the enthused Knight’s manhood. “Take me, Knight of Ren. Make me shake. Make me scream. Make me yours.”_  
  
_“Oh yes, my evil little Ginger flower of love, I will claim you and ruin you for all other men. I will even kill Captain Edrison Peavey for you because he doesn’t know how to use idioms, and said you were a living, breathing lonely gay stereotype for using too much hair gel and having nobody who related to you but your cat.”_  
  
_“But I am alone no longer,” said the Ginger to his Raven-haired Knight, “I have you.”_  
  
_“So you don’t want me to kill Peavey,” questioned Kylo?_  
_“No, my love, it would still be nice if you killed Peavey,” said Armitage bustily._  
  
Hux rubbed his temples and filled up his shot glass with whiskey again. He could feel this dreck corroding his brain tissue. “Bustily” was not a word. If he was a sane, sensible man, he’d turn off his console and go to bed, possibly indulging in a bit of quality porn to detox from the demented ramblings of some virgin on the HoloNet. But Hux was not a sensible man. Much in the manner of a passer-by fixated on the scene of a horrific accident, he clutched his glass tighter and scrolled down. His rectal sphincter contracted in pain when he read the next paragraph:  
  
_“But kill him after you fuck me,” husked Armitage. “Take me now.” He raised his cute pink little posterior like a bitch in heat, and in one smooth motion, the handsome, clear-skinned, shredded Knight slid home inside of his little General._  
  
_“Oh, Kylo, this feels so good!!!!” Kylo fucked in and out roughly, moving over his love like he was dancing the Space-Worm, his toned body undulating over the ginger General’s softness as he hit all of the secret places inside of him._  
  
Hux choked and spewed whiskey on his console screen. No, no, no, this was not how any humanoid being had anal sex! Going in dry was one thing and one thing only: a terrible mistake. Human anuses never open like flowers. Hell, even vaginas never open like flowers, for all that they could take slightly rougher treatment than their puckered brethren. This was it. He’d pfassking had it with dark_limpid_tears_666. He liked to read their fics because they were so mind-numbingly terrible it was good, but reading too many anal sex scenes probably written by a straight, virginal 15-year-old girl made his arse hurt in sympathy.  
  
He opened the comment dialogue:  
  
**General_Armitage_Hux_34:**  
This piece was a karking nightmare even for you, dear dark_limpid_tears_666. The characterization was weak, your command of Basic vocabulary and grammar is atrocious, and that simply is not how anal sex works. Next time do a little research, first. You clearly have adequate time on your hands as this is your 23rd work for this pairing; how hard can it be to open an encrypted or incognito window and search for such useful terms as: “personal lubricant”, “butt plug”, “condom”, or “how to have anal sex”? I suggest you do this research on your own as I do not want to discuss sexual intercourse with a child. However, I will tell you one thing.  
If there is someone unfortunate enough to be your boyfriend or girlfriend in your life: NEVER JUST SHOVE IT IN THE ARSE WITHOUT LUBE. IF THERE IS A VAGINA INVOLVED INSTEAD, IT SHOULD ALSO BE NICE AND WET. FOR ANAL SEX, SPIT, CUM, BLOOD, OR SANDWICH CONDIMENTS ARE NOT ACCEPTABLE SUBSTITUTES FOR LUBE. IF YOU USE NOTHING OR THESE FLUIDS, IT WILL HURT THEM. NOT IN A SEXY WAY. IT WILL HURT IN AN EMBARRASSING, PAINFUL WAY. DON’T LET THEM SHOVE IT IN YOU DRY EITHER. Perhaps you should also search for “foreplay instructions”. Condoms are a must. If you or your partner has a vagina, they will protect against pregnancy. For anyone, they will prevent sexually transmitted illness, besides making for easier clean-up. Afterwards, both parties should urinate to prevent urinary tract infections, shower as soon as possible, brush their teeth, and put alcohol-based sanitizer on their hands.  
  
Finally, Hux is not a “little flower”. At six foot one, he is taller than the average man.  
  
His attempts at edifying the fanfic-reading rabble were fruitless, as always:  
  
**Slash_Trash_2000** :  
Dude, this is just a fanfic. You need to chill. I don’t read smut for instructions. If this were a Mafia AU, I wouldn’t think crime was good or go around killing people, so there’s no excuse to troll folks for the creative stuff they do for a hobby.  
  
**General_Armitage_Hux_34:**  
To refute your Mafia example, most people never kill anyone in real life. However, most of these people do engage in sexual intercourse, and for too many of them, pornographic fiction was their only source of information before doing the deed. Unlike what someone such as dark_limpid_tears_666 may have experienced, I have actually had anal sex before. I’ve killed people too, but that’s beside the point.  
  
**Slash_Trash_2000:**  
  
WTF?!  
  
**Generalhuxhat:**  
  
@Slash_Trash_2000: no, this guy is hilarious. He comments on all fics like General Hux would, in-character. He’s not a troll, he’s just a RPer who gets a little too into it sometimes.  
  
**General_Armitage_Hux_34:**  
  
Generalhuxhat, unlike yourself I am actually a General of the First Order. I should show some respect, if I were you.  
**Slash_Trash_2000** :  
This is the comments section of somebody else’s fic. If you wanna do weirdly intense SW RP, there are people you can hit up for that on places like Twitter.  
**General_Armitage_Hux_34:**  
What is Twitter? Is it anything like this cesspool, or Tumblr? I should find out how to block it on my officer’s datapads so they cannot access it during work hours. I’ve been disconcerted to learn that my commissioned officers spend altogether too much time looking at disgusting things like “Cottagecore Moodboards” or “plantblrs” when they should be working.  
**Slash_Trash_2000:**  
Ok, I’m done here.  
**dark_limpid_tears_666:**  
@General_Armitage_Hux_34: this was really hurtful i worked hard on this fic. i think it shows the transformation of there relationship from angry to loving. if you don’t like it nobody forced you to read it. there are other things you can do like not reading my fic or jumping out an airlock.  
**General_Armitage_Hux_34:**  
It’s just so frustrating to look for good things to read in my scant downtime, and not find anything but dreck written by a thirteen-year-old straight girl who’s never even been kissed.

The entity known as dark_limpid_tears_666 did not respond for over two hours. Hux knew better than to think that he-or she- was shut up for good. He took a shower, shined his boots, and watched a cartoon holodrama with Millie in his lap. He checked the feed again:  
**dark_limpid_tears_666:**  
for your information im 29 years old and a man  
The nonexistent grammar made him want to punch his console, but he held his temper.  
**General_Armitage_Hux_34:**  
Well, you write pornography like a child. And it took you long enough to reply.  
**dark_limpid_tears_666:**  
my datapad broke I had to get a new one  
**General_Armitage_Hux_34** :  
That was convenient for you. Look, boy, girl, neither, whoever you are, I think you would benefit from spending less time on this site. Go get involved in your local community, talk to people face-to-face, find somebody of your preferred gender that likes you if you can. Live a little. Then, maybe enroll in a Galactic Basic Language class and a creative writing course. I might enjoy seeing what you have to write then.  
**dark_limpid_tears_666:**  
that’s rich of you to tell me to get a life you’re on this site too  
**dark_limpid_tears_666:**  
ive been stressed a lot irl rn writing helps me cope  
**dark_limpid_tears_666:**  
im not gonna let some rando tell me what to do with my life  
***  
Hux sighed. At this point, it was futile to engage further with this person. They wrote the worst smut he’d ever seen. He shut down his console and crawled into bed. His eyes jerked open, and he stared at the ceiling in horror. _“I will even kill Captain Edrison Peavey for you because he doesn’t know how to use idioms, and said you were a living, breathing lonely gay stereotype for using too much hair gel and having nobody who related to you but your cat.”_ Peavey was prone to malapropisms when he tried to speak; he said that Poe Dameron (may his handsome face burn in hell) was _tooling_ with Hux as he prank-called him on the bridge rather than the commonly-used _toying._ And the awful man made that cutting remark about Hux being little more than a sad gay stereotype when he thought the General was out of earshot on the bridge. And most damningly, dark_limpid_tears_666 said “datapad” rather than “phone”, or “laptop”.  
  
_There is somebody on this ship writing smut of me!_ He shuddered. Who could this filthy, unproductive, virginal miscreant be? _I hope it’s not Thannison. He’s a child fresh out of Academy. But he was on the bridge when that senile nerf-herder Peavey was making fun of me. If this persists, I shall have a Word with him._  
  
On the other side of the ship, in his lonely, uncomfortable bed, Kylo Ren cried himself to sleep. The other kids in Jedi School laughed at him for doing calligraphy. Then, he’d killed them and joined the First Order. The First Order officers laughed at him for doing calligraphy, and Snoke said he wasn’t allowed to kill the officers. Then, he’d killed Snoke. And realized that poetry and fiction were more effective ways of channeling his emotions. But now, people on the HoloNet laughed at him for writing fiction. And he couldn’t find them and Force-choke them.  
  
There was no way that Hux even liked him, much less saw him as a romantic or sexual option. But at Hux’s command, he would kill all those horrid old officers and make love to his General. If only Hux showed him how to do the second thing. He liked the idea of Hux shoving him around to put him in his place, and then instructing him in the arts of the bedroom. Yeah. That was hot. He was definitely going to write his next fic about that.  
  
He imagined Hux brushing his tears away with his dainty gloved fingers, then nudging his crotch with one of those shiny boots. It helped him get to sleep, but it could never be real.


End file.
